


Whispers Like Vipers

by StarsGarters



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsGarters/pseuds/StarsGarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very short drabble about Loki. He probably thought this every waking day after he understood that Thor was going to be king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers Like Vipers

 

 

 

He would never admit it, but he heard the whispers. He heard the mutters and the murmurs underneath people's breath. In the great halls, in the streets, even in the shadows where he hid to clear his mind of the constant barrage of social obligations. 

"He's our prince, but such an _odd_ one. Bookish and so thin."

"Must take after his mother. You know, she's a powerful witch."

"Probably had to be to enchant his father."

"Don't let Odin hear you say that."

"Thank goodness that his brother will reign. He is the oldest, after all."

"Oh yes, born to be a king that one is."

Yes, his brother was going to be king, but didn't Father say that they both were born to be kings? The injustice of it all chafed. No one would say it directly to him, but they all knew it implicitly. He wasn't good enough to be king of Asgard, always second best. Even Mother's gentle touch seemed soaked in pity that burned like acid. 

He'd show them. He would be a great king. Compassionate, shrewd and powerful. His people would be safe and prosperous thanks to his ambition. His power would rock the heavens and unite the Nine Realms. 

They wouldn't whisper about him anymore, _oh no_ they'd chant his name and roar with gratitude. They'd crowd the streets and clamor to catch a glimpse of the hem of his robe. "There goes our King! There goes our King!" He would sit on that throne and survey all that belonged to him and they would worship him.  

"Come on my brother! No hiding in the Great Hall this night! There is feasting and merriment to be had! We shall celebrate our victory today over the trolls and epic songs will be composed!" A great arm closed around his shoulders and held him tight. "You fought with valor! We are sons of Odin and let Asgard sleep well tonight knowing that their champions have returned!"  Every sentence was declaimed, every word a proclamation. His brother could be a pompous braggart when everything was promised to him. Who would stand up to the Mighty Thor?

It was easy be swept along with his brother's enthusiasm, but impossible to not hate the implacable future. Resentment curled in his gut like a festering serpent. 

Still, Loki smiled  tight-lipped and allowed himself to be pulled along in Thor's wake, always watching. Always waiting. For the one thing that Loki had in abundance that his strapping golden brother did not, was _patience_.     


End file.
